whence one may reasonably infer
that the taste of their customers--when they have any--is better suited
by the grandiose than the artistic. But most of the expensively furnished
houses show plainly that the upholsterer has been given _carte blanche_
to do what he will. Look at his shop-window, and you may make a shrewd
guess at his customer's drawing-room.

Nor is the furniture universal in Australia, as one would naturally
suppose, after the style of that in Italy and the South of France. The
frowsy carpets and heavy solid chairs of England's cold and foggy climate
reign supreme beneath the Austral sun. The Exhibitions have done
something towards reforming our domestic interiors, but it will be a long
time before the renaissance of art as applied to households, which
appears to be taking place in England, makes its way here in any
considerable force.

But instead of generalizing, it is time we should go through Muttonwool's
house room by room. On entering the drawing-room the first thing that
strikes the eye is the carpet, with a stiff set pattern large enough to
knock you down, and of a rich gaudy colour. You raise your eyes--find
opposite them the regulation white marble mantelpiece, more or less
carved, and a gilt mirror, which we will hope is not protected from the
flies by green netting. Having made a grimace, you sit down upon one of
the chairs. There are nine in the room besides the sofa--perhaps an
ottoman--and you can take your choice between the 'gent's' armchair, the
lady's low-chair, and the six high ones. If they are not in their
night-shirts you can examine the covering--usually satin or perhaps
cretonne. The pattern is unique, being, I should think, specially
manufactured for the colonial market. Bright hues prevail. Occasional
chairs have only lately been introduced, and the whole suite is in
unison, though harmony with the carpet has been overlooked, or rather
never thought of, the two things having been chosen separately, and
without any idea that it would be an improvement if they were to match.

As for the make of the chairs, they are to be found in plenty of English
middle-class drawing-rooms even now. The shape may be named the
'deformed.' The back is carved out into various contortions of a
horse-shoe, with a bar across the middle which just catches you in the
small of the back, and is a continual reproach if you venture to lean
against it. The wood of which the chairs are made is mahogany, wal